


Queen of Putrefaction

by ThePigtailGirl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: :), Badass Pidge, I mean it is almost gore?, It isn't as drepressing as it looks, Medieval AU, Voltron au, beacuse why not?, gore?, it has blood in it, ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePigtailGirl/pseuds/ThePigtailGirl
Summary: The sun was already setting on the horizon when the last man had fallen to the ground. The thin snow of the early season highlighted the drops of blood spattered around the now lifeless bodies.





	Queen of Putrefaction

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> Yeah, it's me again. *give a little salut with two fingers thinking it'll looks cool*  
> So, this time I tried an Medieval AU. Pidge is an badass assassin and I am loving it. *me fangirling inside (and outside like an idiot, of course)*  
> I intend to make an continuation to this story, but I can't promise anything. If I do, IF, it'll may have a romance between Pidge and Lance. Oh who am I kidding? It definitively will have a goodamn Plance in this bitch.  
> Oh, to make things clear, the guy in the end is Lotor if you want to know.  
> Hope you enjoy the reading! Bye! :)

The sun was already setting on the horizon when the last man had fallen to the ground. The thin snow of the early season highlighted the drops of blood spattered around the now lifeless bodies. 

Winter had stared not many days ago, and the first snow of the cold season had fallen with the dawn of that day. Pidge hated winter. The white landscape left traces of her activities from the first step down to the last brushstroke of the red-and-white picture that struggled for dominance among the bushes and pines of the forest at the end of its work. Sometimes the bodies remained intact until the end of the season because of the snow and cold.

A slight laugh escaped her lips, perhaps some starving animal would get one last feast that night before he became a companion to those lying there in the coming weeks of the rigorous season.       

Wiping away the remnants of blood that adorned her hands in the snow Pidge thought of the bag with the fifty gold coins that were paid to her for the service she had just completed and how she would spend it. A round of the best beer from the Golden Serpent tavern would be a good way to celebrate the first work of the season.       

Pidge tried to figure out how she would use the reward she received as she dragged her feet along the trail that led to the city. It was hard to get work during the cold seasons, and the one she had just run was, as she liked to call it, a gift from the Grim Reaper himself. Apparently, the deaths were most welcome during the hot seasons, and no matter how much she had gone through this process of calculations and savings for years, Pidge could not get used to the shortage she encountered in the winter.  

* * *

A rush of heat hit her rosy cheeks in the chill as she opened the front door, her half-frozen fingers seeming to melt from the heat emanating from the fireplace in the corner of the room. Removing the several layers of cloth that adorned her body, Pidge turned toward the counter, sitting on the same rusty, beaten bench as ever. Fishing two coins from her bag and depositing them in the bar the soul-hunter casted a glance at the tavern keeper, a mid-aged man with a big mustache and a hair that shone like fire, who was already approaching with a sparkling mug in one of his hands.       

“Productive day?” He asked, picking up the shiny coins and putting the drink in front of her.        

"We can say yes," she said with a grin plastered all over her face.             

“I am happy to hear that. Enjoy the drink dear." He said with a smile before direct himself to another corner of the tavern to separate a fight between two men who apparently had been drunk more than they needed for the night.       

Pidge leaned back on the counter while she feasted on her drink and watched the tavern keeper scramble to separate the drunken men, now more people were gathering around them and they began to encourage the obtuse struggle. Somehow, all that confusion and shouting were comforting to her, the fights and the mess made her feel silly cheerful and allowed some real smiles to form on her lips. It was a strange feeling but Pidge had grown accustomed to it over the passing seasons. 

The door swung open allowing a light wind to come in. A tall, slender man had come in, and the first thing the young soul-hunter noticed was the tinkling sack hanging on his waist, which, by her accounts, contained a generous amount of gold. The boy's clothes were simple, but you could still see that they were made of a material that not a living person in those bands could ever dream of owning.

His eyes wandered around the tavern until they settled in Pidge, a look of surprise took the face of the young man, perhaps because he had discovered that the one he was looking for was a slim woman who appeared to be not much younger than himself.       

Pidge just finished her drink and rested the mug on the counter while she waited. She knew who he was. A customer. _The season started well_ , she thought to herself. Maybe she was a very lucky girl or maybe the Grim Reaper was blessing her a lot this year, but Pidge did not really care. He was only glad that a small fraction of her worries was taken away with the cold air as that door closed a few minutes ago.

She waited. When she felt the presence of someone approaching, Pidge felt her lips instinctively curve in one more of her several smug smiles and her eyes turned to her newest patron.

“How can I help you?”


End file.
